


I will be the one you need

by hyphenation



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Angst, Asphyxiation, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Dennis POV, Double Date, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings, Internalized Homophobia, Kinda, M/M, Manipulation, Masturbation, Sex Doll, season 13
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-09-30 08:23:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17220365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyphenation/pseuds/hyphenation
Summary: Hoping everything will go back to how they used to be, Dennis returns to Philly. He’s bartending at Paddy’s again and living in the apartment he loves with someone who truly appreciates him. He should feel great – should be back to his normal self. He isn’t, though, and Mac isn’t making things easy either.Or,A fic centered around 7 episodes from season 13. Extended and missing scenes, introspection, Dennis’ reasoning behind his actions. Basically, this is what him and Mac does together outside of the episodes, things I wish we would get to see, and flashbacks to events he doesn’t want to admit ever happened. And the sex doll makes a comeback.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Mitski’s Geyser.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after The Gang Makes Paddy’s Great again. Mac and Dennis return to their apartment – stuff happen, and Dennis needs to find a way to deal with it. Cue Tinder and Grindr.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m a _little_ bit thirsty. Do you guys still serve beer here?

“I knew you were gonna say something funny man – so smart, too. And clever – clever, yeah. Well, welcome back!"

“Ey, well for _now_. I’m back for now.”

“Hey guys do you know what? I think we just made Paddy’s great again.”

“Hahaha, shut up, bird! Hey Mac, did you gain a little bit of weight?”

*

“I knew you’d come back, so I kept it just how you like it. Didn’t change a thing,” Mac is talking excitedly as they walk up the stairs in their apartment building. He’s in front of Dennis, showing the way as if he hasn’t walked the same steps thousands of times before.

“I even kept your cosmetics, dude. Knew you’d be mad at me if I’d thrown that expensive shit away.” He beams at him as he unlocks their apartment door and opens it for Dennis to enter first.

“Great,” Dennis replies unenthusiastically. Mac is being too assumptive, as always. Dennis isn’t predictable – he could have stayed in North-Dakota for years without so much as setting a foot inside the tristate area. Him returning now was never a given, he didn’t even plan it. Mac was lucky to have him. But he is right – everything looks the way it had on the day he left all those months ago. A part of him loves it – loves the familiarity of the shitty apartment they have lived in together for the last 15 years. Loves the smell. Loves that he knows where everything is, and even though it isn’t what he had pictured himself to live in by 40, it feels like _home_. His home, their home. And if it wasn’t for Mac, it wouldn’t feel as homey as it does. Without him, they would probably be standing in a burnt-up room with missing walls, and worse – they would have to live with Dee. But Dennis is Dennis, and there’s always a sense of annoyance lurking below the surface with him. Nothing can ever be just fine – he has to find something, anything to project his negativity onto. Especially with Mac. And as always with Mac, he pretends not to notice. Sure, he’s great at domestic shit (sans cooking), but the reason _why_ he is, and why he’s so goddamned happy right now, is unavoidable. Even without the sex doll, Dennis would have known from the moment he entered Paddy’s tonight that Mac was still very much in love with him. Too in love to stop beaming at him, touching him and staring at him, but too repressed to admit to it and fully express it. Dennis himself will certainly not acknowledge it, further than rolling his eyes and occasionally making snide comments alluding to it.

“Thanks, that is… yeah,” he finally mutters and throws his bags to the floor by the entrance. He turns around, and immediately Mac’s heavy arms meet him by reaching around his torso, subsequently dragging him into an embrace. It startles Dennis, and he has to momentarily collect himself before he himself reaches around Mac’s back to give him a couple of taps on his shoulders.

“Gotta give you a hug when you’ve been gone for 8 months, dude!” Mac says lightly into the back of his neck. “Especially now that we’re home, I mean.” He says it as if it was 2009 when hugging was something they still did on a regular basis.

Dennis’ arms fall back to his sides, but he can feel the tension in Mac’s, still not ready to let go yet. So Dennis places his own onto Mac’s sides, slightly pushing away from him, as if to signal that this is the end of their embrace, and slowly Mac recognizes what Dennis is asking him to do. He can feel Mac’s hot breath on his neck, how the solid muscle under his hands tense, and finally Mac’s arms slightly lift off of his body. All he wants is for him to fully let go, so they can both precede to pretend like it never happened. Instead, Mac moves his hands to rest flat against Dennis’ upper shoulders, the tips of his fingers barely touching the sensitive skin where his hairline starts.

Dennis doesn’t move. It’s as if his brain detached from his body – none of the commands he’s giving it reaches their destination. Then he feels Mac’s warm breath on his skin move from the back of his neck, to below his ear, and finally, to Mac almost facing him. His head is crooked, mouth an inch away from Dennis’ left jawline, and his eyes are closed. His breath is heavy, and suddenly Dennis notices that his own is too. Mac’s staring at him through half-lidded eyes, and before Dennis’ mind can register it, he closes the gap between them and fiercely kisses Dennis’ parted lips. When he understands what is happening, Dennis breaks from the embrace and firmly pushes Mac away from him.

“Mac, that’s not --- what are you doing?! That’s _not_ okay!”

“I’m… fuck, I’m sorry Dennis. Fuck. I don’t – don’t know why I did that. I’m just really excited you’re here, ‘s all,” he says carefully.

“So you decided to _kiss_ me? Jesus, first the sex doll and now this. If I’m that difficult to stay away from, I’m actually glad you have that thing, wherever it is now.”

“It won’t happen again, I swear Dennis! And the doll’s in our basement storage for the meanwhile. If you want me to go get it I’ll –“

“No! For god’s sake, I don’t wanna see that abomination again. Just don’t kiss me, okay?”

“Copy that, copy that… No kissing, alright,” Mac says and tries his best to avoid Dennis’ gaze. For a moment, the silence between them grows and turns uncomfortable, but then Mac looks up at him and asks with hope in his voice “So, just like old times then?”

“Sure… just like old times,” Dennis replies flatly. When Mac’s smile fades, he continues, more enthusiastic: “The dynamic duo and all, yeah! Scheming, plotting, hanging out. ‘S gon’ be good.” The optimism in his voice is partly a lie, but the thought of them hanging out like old times again is somewhat comforting to Dennis. He’s always been good at ignoring Mac’s previous advances on him, why would he not be capable of the same thing now? He’ll forget about the kiss in no time.

The smile returns to Mac’s lips instantly, along with the lines around his eyes. “I’ve missed the dynamic duo, man, this is gonna be so sweet, the two of us living together again. What do you say we put on Thunder Gun Express and just chill?”

“The extended version?”  
  
“Of course, bro. What do you take me for?” Mac asks rhetorically, and they both grin in agreement.

*

It’s past midnight, and Dennis can’t sleep. He thought returning to his bed would be the highlight of his day, but he was wrong. 

Mac had fallen asleep by the beginning of the third act, so Dennis had decided to turn the TV off and let him sleep in peace on the couch. He propped his feet up so he could lay properly, and placed a blanket on top of his body. It had been years since he’d watched Mac sleep like this. The lines on his face were smoothed out, the frown that was as if imprinted on his forehead had somehow faded into nothingness. It brought back memories of sleeping in the same bed together, and memories of times where Dennis had been the one responsible for erasing the frown off of his face.

Dennis can’t stop himself when he gets into moods such as this one. Once a thought breaks through his carefully constructed mental wall of control, it’s too late. Same with memories. And this night, memories and thoughts that had long been off limits, reemerges. He’s slowly realizing that sleep isn’t an option now. Not when memories of Mac’s mellow face between his hands, them in matching uniforms and costumes together, and an embrace not too dissimilar to the one they had shared earlier in the evening, breach the confines of his subconscious. He can see his face, hear Mac’s frantic words of rejection.

_“What the fuck are you doing?”_

_His own hands being swatted away from Mac’s waist. The lingering taste of wine on his lips. The panic in Mac’s eyes._

Dennis can’t help it. Once he lets himself fall victim to his off-limits memories, he’s gone. That’s why he can’t stop himself when his hand travels down his torso, into his boxers. That’s why he’s helpless when his eyes close and Mac’s name escapes his mouth in low whispers. All he can do, is keep them as silent as possible. As non-existent as possible.

He thinks back to earlier that night. To the split-second Mac’s lips were on his, and the following ones where shame and embarrassment veiled his face. As Dennis’ breathing deepens and the pace of the hand around his cock increases, an amalgamation of memories, fantasies, wishes and alternative outcomes and decisions flood his mind. Visions of himself kissing Mac’s hopeful face instead of shutting the door in his face. He can almost taste him, almost smell him. Visions of himself running his hands through Mac’s unstyled hair; of Mac fucking the sexdoll version of him as he calls Dennis’ name in pleasure. He can feel his hot breath on his skin, and then he comes as his muscles contract and he hears himself repeat Mac’s name again and again and again.

*

“Christ, my back hurts,” Mac complains when Dennis enters the living room the next day. He’s sitting by the dining table, eating what Dennis can only guess is some sort of chicken dish. Doesn’t smell like anything either of them would enjoy, but Mac keeps on eating it enthusiastically. Dennis joins him after grabbing a cup of coffee from the machine in the kitchen. 

“So, you didn’t sleep too well I reckon?” He’ll indulge his complaining.

“Nah the sleep was okay but the moment I woke up my back started killing me.” 

“Yeah… I didn’t wanna wake you up last night, and there was no way I’d ever be able to carry all 200 pounds of you into your own room. ‘Sides, your bed’s shitty either way,” Dennis says nonchalantly.

“Fuck off, I’m not 200 pounds! And even if I were, it’d all be solid hard muscle,” Mac replies defensively. Even if Mac had gotten quite beefy, his body image was still one of his biggest insecurities – and thereby something Dennis could take pleasure in taking advantage of.

“Whatever… How was your night? The old bed still as good as you remember it being?” Mac continues when all the response he gets is Dennis rolling his eyes at him.

“Yup. Fell right asleep the very moment my head hit the pillow.”

“Good for you, man. A shame we didn’t get to finish Thunder Gun, though. It’s been so long since the last time we saw it, and we didn’t even make it to the dong shot… What about tonight?”

“Tonight?” Dennis asks in a high pitch. “I was kinda planning on getting hammered tonight, to go out and get some girls, y’know.”

A beat. Mac looks expressionlessly back at him. 

“Ugh yeah, I kinda forgot… Of course you don’t know. Maybe you could use Grindr and I’ll find a piece of tail on Tinder. Double date it up?” Dennis presents the idea the way he always does - as something only a genius could come up with.

“Sure… a double date. Yeah… yeah, maybe that’ll be fun. Sure,” Mac says in one of the least convincing tones Dennis has ever heard. He’s clearly very uncomfortable with the idea, and Dennis loves it. Can’t wait to see the displeasure on his face once Dennis is all over whichever woman he’ll find for the occasion.

“Nice! It’s a date,” he declares as he spins on his heels and head towards the bathroom to get ready for the day.

*

“Left… left… left… left... no… _definitely_ no… left… ugly… fat… left… _“MILF”?_ more like old and wrinkly… left…”

“Dude, if you’re gonna continue left-swiping all these girls you’ll never get a match! And your age spectrum is _way_ off. 20 to 35, really? You’re disgusting, Dennis.”

Dee keeps yapping away in the background, but all Dennis can focus on is how fucking _bad_ the Philly dating scene is. He’s only swiped right 2 times yet, and he’s been looking for hours. Even worse, the two he’d chosen worthy of him didn’t even produce a match! Either these women were mentally challenged or the algorithm was way off.

It’s early afternoon, they’re sitting in the bar, and he desperately needs to get a match, or else he’s going to have to come up with a shitty excuse and cancel the date. He can’t do that. So after giving it another 15 minutes of swiping, he finally lowers his standards and swiftly matches with a couple of 35 year old women who looks decent enough to use for _one_ date. To his continued dissatisfaction, none but one of them agrees to meet up that night for a drink. It absolutely infuriates him how so many women can be of such bad taste. But the relief of securing a date for the night trumps his anger, and now he kind of looks forward to their evening again. The plan is finally moving along nicely.

*

“What do you guys say we go back to our place and continue the evening there,” Dennis hears himself ask after several seconds of awkward silence. Mac had been so preoccupied with talking to and looking at his date, that the flow of their shared conversation had come to a halt, and he was left out of the topic they so intimately were discussing on the other side of the booth.

“Dude, is this like a foursome thing? Cause I’m strictly gay, bro. No offence, Sarah,” Mac’s date says skeptically.

Before Dennis can interject, his date answers: “Well that was blunt. Thanks, I guess. But to be honest, I’m not really comfortable with going home alone with three guys I’ve only just met before, foursome or no foursome.”

“Hey! No-one’s talking about any foursomes here! No- one’s, no-one’s… While I have indulged in several ones in the past, I too must make it known that I only swing one way – that way of course being towards women! So noooo, nononono, it’s not “a foursome thing”, Alex!” Dennis proclaims frantically.

“Aight, cool, cool. Well, if so I’m down to go back to yours Mac,” Alex says as he turns back towards Mac, and smiles smoothly at him.

“Nice, yeah. That sounds great. So it’s just gonna be the three of us then, or?”  
  
“Nooo, she’s just joking this one! Right, Sarah? So funny, so clever. You’ll join, we’ll have a blast. _You’ll_ certainly enjoy yourself, I can promise you that,” Dennis says as he winks at her suggestively.

“Ehm… sorry, Dennis. Maybe another time – we can text about it later I’m sure. I think I’ll just head home for now, and then you guys can all go and… hang out or whatever.”

“Sure… you do that,” Dennis replies in a monotone voice when he sees her get up from the booth and reach for her jacket. He didn’t think he could get any more furious than he had been earlier that day, and he feels his face redden with hot anger.

“Bye,” she says and waves at the three of them, and looks like she can’t wait to get out of Paddy’s as fast as possible. 

“Shit, dude. That sucks. Well, you can’t catch them all I guess. Let’s grab a bottle of tequila and bail. Make Dee close up,” Mac says with a grin. The look between him and Dennis produces a slight tingle in his chest, before it swiftly disappears when Mac grabs Alex by the waist.

“Sure, let’s go home.”

*

“Coming Down” by Dum Dum Girls is playing in the background, and Dennis’ head feels light and heavy at the same time. The room is gently spinning as he’s sitting in the recliner, beer bottle lazily in hand and he’s trying to come up with a way to steer the conversation back on track to what it was supposed to be about.

They’re sitting around the coffee table, Mac and Alex in the sofa together, very close, and Dennis in the chair.

“This song’s too slow, guys. Too depressing. I mean yeah sure, I love laidback and chill music as much as any other guy when the time’s nearing 4 in the morning, but guys… what about some Sam Smith or something?”  
  
“Absolutely fucking not,” Dennis declares flatly.

“I mean, Dennis does have the best taste in music out of the two of us. And I kinda like the lyrics, they seem very deep to me? But I think Alex should be able to pick the next song. Like, just to be polite, I mean. I don’t give a fuck about Sam Smith, whoever he is, but I mean it can’t hurt can it?” Mac was playing the part of arbitrator – and failing miserably.  
  
“Yes, it absolutely can. I will not put my ears through listening to that syrupy, whiney shit. I will not partake in self-torture.” Not a chance in hell was he going to give in now.

“Dude, what’s up with you? You’ve been moody and bitchy all fucking night, I can barely put up with you. Jesus Christ, you’re not gonna say anything Mac?” Alex askes as he turns towards Mac, voice and face full of frustration.  
  
“Well, you _have_ been a pain ever since that Sarah chick walked out on you-“  
  
“She did not walk out on me! It was this bastard’s fault for insinuating that I intended to have a _foursome_ with you guys. I should be the one calling him out! Thinking _I_ would want to have sex with _you_ guys. Ridiculous!” Dennis gets up from his seat and walks straight to his bedroom. Right before the door slams behind him he hears Alex mutter “Thank God, I thought he was _never_ gonna let us be alone.”

He’s fuming. He can’t fully keep up with his thoughts, they’re too chaotic and intense to control. The bed feels hard as stone and the ceiling seems to close down on him. Why did he have to find such a lousy tinder date? And why couldn’t this Alex guy just show some common curtesy and let the host pick the music? A rude motherfucker, that’s what he is. And ugly. Even though he’s taller than Dennis, his body fat percentage is probably around 20. And he’s never been a fan of green eyes, didn’t think Mac was either. Surely, he’ll kick the guy to the curb at any moment now. Surely, he was. Who sleeps with a 6 when a perfect 10 is only a room away? Not that he wants that to happen, of course, but as a matter of principle it should be a given. Mac having to resort to his own hand while thinking of Dennis would be a better experience for him, Dennis is sure. He even has a plastic replica of him in the basement, why he would ever need a lousy Grindr fuck is beyond Dennis.

The sex doll – how many times has Mac fucked it, Dennis wonders. What has he done to it? And how? How often? Was it good? He’s sure Mac has enjoyed it, but there’s a slight hint of concern in the back of his mind. Perhaps it wasn’t as great as Mac had hoped it would be. Dennis is sure Mac’s always wanted to fuck him, but what if fucking a cold, dead, plastic version of him had been a disappointment? What if Mac now was conflating the doll with him? Conflating how _he_ would be.

A door closes in the next room over. It’s not the entrance door, Dennis recognizes the louder, heavier sound that one produces. It must be Mac’s door. Which means that Alex hasn’t left yet, and Dennis is immediately dragged back to reality. He can’t help but listen intently for more sounds. Any sound. Preferably, the sound of the entrance door closing. But that doesn’t happen. Instead, after a while, he hears banging. The unmistakable sound of bodies rocking on top of a very low-quality bed. He closes his eyes – allows the anger to take hold, the jealousy. And then, a third emotion – lust. It grows in his body with the increasing volume of Mac’s voice two rooms away. The combination of the three feelings is all-consuming – there’s nothing else controlling his thoughts or actions now. Not only does he wish he was Alex, but he suddenly experiences a bizarre yearning to be the plastic version of himself. Yes, Alex is the one with Mac right now, but the sex doll has been the object of Mac’s desire, love and lust, many more times. He had purchased it – in a way he had created it. All in the image of Dennis.

But Dennis is confined to his own flesh, the very flesh that repeatedly betrays him. Once again, he feels his hand move across his skin to reach for his arousal. But this time, a hand on his cock isn’t enough. Without thinking about it, on pure instinct, he reaches for the bottle of lube in his nightstand and covers his fingers in its content. What would it feel like if he were the doll? If he’d been the one Mac fucked all those times? He wants to _truly_ know, but at this moment what he’ll be able to experience is limited. The first finger does less to him than he imagined it would, but by the time he’s inserting the third, elation reaches every part of his body. And when he comes harder than he has in a long time, both his body and mind relaxes, knowing that they reached what he so desperately needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise things are going to get juicy in a bit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Now, Dennis! As the possessor of the lock, albeit through unscrupulous methods… Let us not have another scratch.”
> 
> The gang can’t decide who gets to have the heart shaped lock and key – this is how the lock ends up in Dennis’ hands. But mostly, it’s about the consequences of that transaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set before, during and after the events from "The Gang Escapes". Warning, though. This isn’t a fic where Dennis is somehow pure. He’s terrible. And manipulative. The episode makes it very difficult to ignore this fact, and it was a bit of a challenge incorporating it into my vision for this chapter. Also, it’s fucked up in kind of a funny way. You’ll see.

Sometimes he just wants a space that’s fully his. Not necessarily as in his own house or apartment, but as in somewhere he can just _be_ without having to worry about anyone else. Anyone looking through the windows, barging in, or hearing him through the walls. Knowing he’s in his own confined area, where no one can see or hear him would feel liberating. No one to worry about. He could do exactly what he would want. Play music as loudly as he wants, say whatever he wants as loud as his voice allows him to. He could finally bring home dates and make them scream without having to worry about Mac barging in.

  
Therefore, a week after returning to Philly, he soundproofs his room. Pays an exorbitant amount of money to get it done, but it’s worth it. He hasn’t felt such peace for years. When he wants to say unspeakable things, he goes there and shouts. When he wants to hear, say or do nothing, he lays on the floor. When he has a one night stand, he can fuck her in peace. And on other days, when Mac’s name slips from his mouth, he doesn’t think more of it. At least not until after he comes.

*

Mac, Dennis, Charlie and Frank are all gathered around the dining table, engaging in a summit to win the escape room game.  


“Mac, now would you please hand me the lock,” Dennis says as he turns towards Mac, hand awaiting the weight of the heart-shaped lock.  


“No way, man! I found the lock so therefore it is mine. Finders, keepers! That is the rule,” Mac says as he twists his body along with the heart-shaped lock in his hands, away from Dennis.  


“There is no such rule in this game!” Dennis declares sternly.  


“Well, it’s the rule of life. God himself said it, it’s in the bible, and therefore it applies to most scenarios in life. You’re gonna go against _God_?”

  
“That _sounds_ true, Dennis. I’m not a hundred percent sure Mac’s right, but there has _got_ to be something about finders, keepers in the bible. Old testament, _for sure_!” Charlie says.  


Frank says nothing, just keeps on chewing that goddamned gum as loudly as he possibly can.  


“No, you imbeciles! There is nothing about finders, keepers in that old book, and even if it were, it would be bullshit.”  


Mac looks offended. His mouth hangs open as he stares at Dennis, but he says nothing, gob-smacked. Dennis stares back, as if to say _“sorry, not sorry”_.  


“I’m _pretty sure_ God would have included that part in the bible, Dennis,” he hears Charlie say from the other side of the table.  


He keeps staring at Mac, but he won’t budge. Dennis can see in his eyes that he’s set on keeping the lock, no matter what Dennis might say.  


“Excuse us, we need to talk,” Dennis says as he grabs Mac by the shirt and drags him along with him to his room. He closes the door behind them and walks up to Mac, so they’re standing half a foot apart.  


“Be reasonable here, Mac. You said so yourself, I am the smartest person you know.” His tone is smooth and enticing, as he lays a hand on top of Mac’s shoulder. Mac looks down on it, noticing its presence. “Of course I should be the one in possession of that god-damned lock!”  


A beat.  


“No, I don’t think so. Cause _you_ said “let’s keep this between you and me”. And me handing it over to you, so that you can share it with Charlie and Frank, does not sound like keeping it between me and you,” Mac says matter-of-factly.   


“Oh for God’s sake! You yourself told them about it! You told them about the lock and now we have no leverage over them! _That’s_ what I meant about keeping it between the two of us, idiot,” he says annoyed, throwing his hands in the air.  


“Yeah well… it’s still finders, keepers. And yes, you’re my team leader, but I don’t appreciate how much you’ve been bossing me around today.” He’s trying to stand his ground, but the slight shakiness in his voice tells Dennis how weak he actually is. All he has to do is trigger him, and the lock will be his.  


“Oh, you don’t appreciate being bossed around? That’s bullshit, you fucking love it when I’m in control over you, don’t try to tell yourself otherwise, Mac,” Dennis says with thinly-veiled venom in his voice. His aggression is building with every word, just like the hint of seduction in his voice and demeanor, too. He closes the gap between them almost entirely. “I’m the boss of you, and you know it. You want me to be. With every choice you make, you want my approval. My admiration, my affection.” He leans in closer, so that Mac can feel his hot breath on his skin, all the while staring at his lips. “Don’t you Mac, don’t you want to be a good boy? …Be a good boy and hand me that lock, now.” The last sentence is almost a whisper.  


The tension between them is thick – Dennis can feel Mac’s breath on his skin too, just like he knows Mac can feel his. Suddenly he notices his skin prickling, the hairs in the back of his neck rising. It is this type of response he’d intended for Mac, not himself. The silence lasts and lasts, until Mac clears his throat, preparing to speak.  


“No, actually I don’t,” he says as he takes a step back. In the following moment, Dennis leaps forward and scratches him across his left cheek. Surprise and anger flood Mac’s eyes, and then they drop to the floor, along with the lock. On instinct, before he can process the last 3 seconds, Dennis picks it up and smiles victoriously.  


He hadn’t intended to hurt him. He rarely does. It was as if his body had made the choice, not his mind, he tells himself. He knows that that’s bullshit, though, but the way Mac looks now, all brooding and hurt, makes him want to believe that he hadn’t made the choice himself. He wants to reach out for him and hug him, and some other part of him tells him he should apologize. But that’s not his style. Dennis doesn’t apologize, especially not to Mac. Instead, he reaches out a hand and pats Mac’s upper arm, before he steps a bit closer and tries to catch his gaze. Mac’s other hand is pressing against his cheek, where red stripes of broken skin are surely starting to form.  


“’Kay, great. Now that’s sorted out,” Dennis says nonchalantly. Uncertainty takes over his train of thought, and after a moment in silence, his hand rubs Mac’s shoulder as he mutters “hope I didn’t scratch you too hard, man."  
 

Still, no answer from Mac, but their eyes meet, and Dennis decides to end the situation on a gentler note. He reaches up to Mac’s hand resting on his chin, and puts his own carefully on top. “We’ll fix that up when the game’s over and we win, okay?” he tries to give him a genuine smile, but something tells him he’s not succeeding.  


“Sure,” Mac responds flatly. All the sadness is gone from his visage, only a hint of anger left now, mixed with confusion.  


*  


“That sirloin steak sure was worth it all,” Dennis calls out from the cough.  


The day is almost over, nearing midnight, and they just got back from the hospital. The apartment had somehow been cleaned and fixed while they had been away, and all the shards of broken items are nowhere to be seen. It’s all back to normal again, and Dennis is relieved. Luckily Mac hadn’t made a big deal out of Dennis scratching him after the initial blow, and he thought he had gotten away with it until he hears Mac’s response to his sirloin remark.  


“Really? It was worth _scratching_ me? I’m still pissed about that shit,” Mac says from the kitchen. He doesn’t sound angry, more so annoyed, displeased or – yeah, “pissed”.  


“Dude that nurse fixed you right up, it’ll be gone in a couple of days. Besides, scabs and scars are badass, right? The most badass dudes have scars on their faces.”

  
“You just said it was gonna be gone in a couple of days. And I’ve got plenty of badass scars – claw marks on my cheeks would not be one of those! It looks like I got into a catfight – and I don’t ever wanna be called Pussyhands again.”

  
“Not my fault you weren’t fast enough to duck.”

  
“God! Sometimes you’re infuriating, Dennis! I’m going out, I don’t wanna be around you when you’re such a dick.”

  
“What? You’re going out – now? C’mon Mac, don’t leave me hanging here with 24 reruns alone.” Dennis throws his hands in the air and looks at Mac across the room with wounded eyes.

  
“You should have thought about that before you scratched me,” Mac responds, standing by their entrance door with his hands on his hips.  


“Well, I _didn’t_ think. Not really. If I had, I probably would have just tackled you and pried that damned lock out of your hands. Would have been way easier and you wouldn’t be sulking like a bitch.”  


Dennis is walking towards Mac now, determined to make him stay and keep him with company.  


“No, it wouldn’t. I would’ve just taken you out with a chokehold.” Yes, an argument about his physical prowess would distract him. This is good  
 

“Yeah, sure. As if you could choke me out. Tell me, how would you do it?” Dennis had reached the entrance, and is now a foot away from him.  


“Easy,” Mac says enthusiastically. “You’d lunge at me, and I would just easily jump to the side and grab you from the back. Then, 10 seconds, and you’d be out.”  


“Yeeeeah, I don’t buy that. I’ve never actually seen you choke anyone out, besides yourself.”  


“Oh, is that right? Well, I’ll show you now, how ‘bout that? If you’re so sure I’m not capable, why not try? I’ll fucking show you.”

  
“Sure, if you want it that way.” Dennis is 95% certain he’s not able to do it, but the size of Mac’s arms had grown quite a bit since the last time he saw him attempting to choke someone. Still, he’s not going to back out. Never.  


The smile on Dennis’ lips turn into a grin, and so does Mac’s. Without any warning, Dennis lunges towards him, as if to knock him to the ground, but it does nothing to top him over. While it doesn’t happen the way Mac said it would, in only a blink, he has Dennis in a chokehold.  


Fuck. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. They were supposed to fall over and struggle against each other, only to end it all with none of them winning. It would make Dennis less of the victor, and Mac could gain back some of his lost masculinity. Instead, now Dennis feels impossibly strong arms squeeze around his neck and shoulders, and a heaving breath in his ear. The lack of oxygen starts to become too evident for his lungs.  


“Told you I’d choke you out, bitch!” Mac mutters, and desperation clouds Dennis’ judgement. He has to do something, anything, in order to escape and breathe again. He didn’t quite know how uncomfortable being forced into asphyxiation would be, not until now. He had played with the concept in the past, but it was always lighthearted, or he was the one suffocating someone else. And it was all in good fun. This isn’t. This is nothing but fun, and suddenly he finds himself resorting to a method he has been trying to limit ever since Mac came out of the closet. His arms stop clinging to Mac’s (in attempt to loosen his grip on his neck), and travel down and back to cup his thighs and ass. Then, just before he thinks he’s about to pass out, he starts grinding his own ass back up against Mac’s groin. It’s not long until his grip on Dennis diminishes, and finally air flows through his lungs again. Oxygen reach his veins, and he becomes aware of the fact that Mac has been supporting his weight, keeping him from dropping to the floor ever since the grip around his neck loosened. He’s back to himself again, and Mac spins him around.  


“Told you I’d choke you,” he says with eyes so wild and joyous, Dennis hasn’t seen anything like it for years. He’s grinning, proud even. And excited, apparently, because before he knows it, he is kissing Dennis again. For the second time that month.  
  
This is not how the night was supposed to go. Not at all!  
 

“Stop! Stop, stop, stop,” Dennis manages to utter, and Mac complies, disappointed.  


“What?! I thought you… I thought you liked it. You were touching me like that… like in a _gay_ way.”  


“Well I fucking had to! I was dying! You were _literally_ killing me, idiot!”

  
“No I wasn’t! I was choking you, you would’ve just passed out and it would all be okay.”

  
“Well it didn’t feel okay to me! I felt like I was dying. So yeah, my survival instinct kicked in. And thank God it worked.”  


“You’re kiiiinda acting like a pussy here, Dennis. I’ve been choked tons of times and I’m super fine. Also, I won. You thought I couldn’t, but I could.”

“Well, technically you never actually chocked me. Not all the way. I stopped you with my intelligence.”

  
“You stopped me with your manipulation, more like it.”  


“Same thing. Now, can you please not kiss me again? Things need to go back to normal around here.”  


“Fine, whatever,” Mac says unenthusiastically and casually as he walks over to the couch and throws himself down on it. “Now let’s watch some 24 until we fall asleep.”  


Success.  


*  
  


Mac had done as he’d said, but then Dennis told him to go sleep in his own room to “avoid the back pain in the morning”. That wasn’t his real intention for clearing the living room of people, though.  


He had been thinking about it for weeks. Ever since he came that night after their double date, the idea wouldn’t leave his mind. But it wouldn’t be safe, not with Mac prying around everywhere, popping his head into Dennis’ room whenever he thought he was jerking off or having sex with someone. So Dennis did the only logical thing – he got his bedroom transformed into his own private dungeon. There he could do anything he wanted, and no one would know about it. And that’s what he is planning on doing now: setting his idea into life. Making the fantasy real.  
 

It’s 2.34AM and he’s in the basement, on his way to their storage unit. Once he’s retrieved what he came down for, he quietly runs upstairs again. No one’s going to catch him now, not at this hour. And Mac’s sleeping in his bed, he double checked before he walked out the door.  


Indeed, no one does catch him, and finally he gets to close his bedroom door behind him. A deep, long breath escapes his lungs, and he closes his eyes. It’s fucked up, he knows it, but he can’t stop himself. When he opens them again, the fake version of himself is staring right back at him from where it’s laying on the floor. Those eyes, they do look somewhat dead. But he doesn’t care, this is all he’s been thinking of ever since Mac kissed him earlier that night.  


He places it on his bed and removes its clothing. Turns it around so he doesn’t have to look at those eyes or that awful mouth. Which absolutely is not how he would look like… doing _that_. It’s not very flattering at all. But that’s not what this is about, and he ignores his irritation.  


Slipping out of his own clothing is easy. He doesn’t think about it. But when he reaches his boxers, nervousness starts to take hold of his body. A hint of paranoia about being watched, despite all the precautions he’s taken with this room, scratches at the back of his mind. Is he actually going to do this? Is he this weird? His erection is reminding him that _yes, he is._ One thing is fucking oneself, everyone does it, but _fucking_ yourself… that’s something else entirely. Not that that’s what this is about – not really. Throughout all the years when Mac had been banging Dennis’ leftovers, the reason why had become clearer to Dennis as time passed. It wasn’t just that Mac wanted to make as little effort as possible in order to bang the most chicks - rather it was the fact that _Dennis had just fucked them_.  


_Move in After Completion._  


Which is essentially what Dennis is doing now. Only, this way is more fucked up. And hotter. And weirder. But better.  


When he closes his eyes, the last item of clothing falls to the ground.  


Not allowing yourself to partake or receive affection from a person you know desperately wants you to, and that you want to too, is torturous. It makes you ache, even if you do not want to acknowledge that pain. You know it’s there. And sometimes you catch yourself slipping – catch yourself _feeling_ it. Dennis doesn’t want to feel. He wants things to go back to normal – to how they should be. But in order to do that, he can’t keep on continually being reminded of the ache in his chest, of the longing in his arms. So he allows himself this instead: to get as close to Mac as he possibly can. To move inside something he’s moved in – loved in. To touch what he’s touched. In a way, the fact that that very thing is the sex doll version of himself makes it better. But also worse. It reminds him of all the times he himself could have been the one in Mac’s bed, and that thought in and of itself is both sad and exhilarating. It turns him on profusely knowing that Mac wants and needs him so bad that he couldn’t live without a version of him. And it scares him, it makes the ache in his chest let its presence be known again briefly. Until he shifts his focus.  


He feels ready. Sitting up on his knees, with his own legs parted between the doll’s, he’s getting impatient to do what he has set out to do all evening. His thoughts are his only hinder – the cock in his hands has been hard ever since before he entered the room. He _needs_ to do this now, to feel it. To feel what Mac has felt. To be him. To come where he’s come. Then, he’ll get it over with and go back to coping with ignoring the pain he buries deep down inside.  


He squeezes some lube onto his hand, and wraps it around his shaft, before pumping it a couple of times. The soft, sticky sensation is always something he’s loved – maybe mostly for what it means is going to happen next, or maybe he’s just weird like that. Then, the front of his thighs meet the back of the doll’s, and he’s pushing inside.  
 

It’s nothing like the real deal. It’s kind of bad, even. There’s no warmth, no life. But after ridding himself of the initial sensorial disappointment, he’s reminded of the previous acts the doll has partaken in. As he thrusts in and out, the image of a panting, sweating Mac doing the same, forms behind his closed lids. In his fantasy, Mac’s hair is unstyled but newly washed. He can almost smell the shampoo – coconut and musk. A smile forms on Dennis’ lips, and joy spreads through him, along with a desperate need to spill. To still the yearning in his body. In his mind, Mac’s body is moving in a steady, hard rhythm. He thrusts with such force, just like he does in nearly every one of Dennis’ previous fantasies about him. So Dennis does too, and after a short while, he can feel the buildup and final conclusion nearing. By this point, he can’t help the moaning. Even though in his head, Mac isn’t – he’s whimpering, but when the whimpers turn to words, so does Dennis’ moans.  
 

“Dennis, Dennis,” he says quietly, and it’s almost scary how easily the words escape his mouth. Dennis is well aware of how vain (deservedly so) and self-absorbed he is, but he hasn’t actually ever uttered his own name during sex before.  


“Dennis...,” with every repetition, the name sounds less like it’s coming from himself, and more like it’s Mac’s actual mouth that’s muttering it. It’s as if he is in the room. Dennis is on the edge, and just as he loudly moans “Dennis, I love you,” he comes inside the doll. He rides it out, every stroke slicker than the last, but now that his high is coming to an end, he finds himself cognizant of the reality of what he’s done. Of how he came, of why. The sheer intensity of it is the worst – if he would have had to force himself into half-heartedly come, this wouldn’t be an issue. That doll would be thrown into a random dumpster by tomorrow morning. But the shameful knowledge of how much pleasure it had given him, makes Dennis realize that there is no way he’d not fuck it again. Sure, he’d sleep with random people just like he’s always done, but the doll is going nowhere. He will have to keep it ready for him to use at his disposal – for better or worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dennis fucking the sex doll was one of the initial plot ideas I got when I started to flesh out the story outline. Making his reasoning and thought-process work smoothly was so fucking difficult. Hope I succeeded, but I'm not that pleased with it. I think writing in a new tense for me has proven more challenging than i thought it would.

**Author's Note:**

> I love feedback. Comments and kudos warm my heart.


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